


For Honour

by edenkings



Category: Talents Series - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Aliens sorts forced us into it lolz, Alternate explanation, FT&T does some shady stuff sometimes, Gen, That scene with the rebirth was kinda creepy, There's kind of reasons I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenkings/pseuds/edenkings
Summary: Rojer Lyon loses his 'Dini friends on the line. A year later, they are "restored" to him. Everyone seems to think this is okay? Why?





	For Honour

**For Honour**

 

It was a grey day on Aurigae, no rain, just the endless cloud cover which sometimes set in at that time of year. It made little difference to the operations in the Tower; the weather hardly had an impact bar the feeds from the mines’ vid getting a tad grainy in the heavy rains, and of course, in the worst weather Damia could hardly expect anyone to walk anywhere when ‘porting was far more sensible, even if she considered it rude normally.

The last consignment of the day despatched, the Tower crew were in the midst of their end-of-day tasks when Damia felt the lightest of touches against her mind, more of a query than a deliberate contact. Frowning, she toggled the generator back on with a side-thought of apology to Xexo. Afra, noting his wife’s frown, settled easily back into his conformable. Together, they reached out for the source of the touch.

 _Ah, Damia, Afra, I hoped I hadn’t caught you too late_. Elizara’s mental voice was quite unmistakable and they exchanged greetings. 

 _What can we do for you Elizara?_ Damia asked,  _not that we are not always happy to hear from you but we are out of Tower hours now._  

Elizara hesitated,  _perhaps it would be best if we had this conversation in person,_ she said.  _I’m in Zurich at present; the WestEuro Tower is happy to lift straight to you rather than going via Blundell which might speed things up a little. I know it’s the end of your working day._

_If Father and the Grens at WestEuro are happy, then we can do so._

_Give me five minutes to get myself settled. Frankie tells me they can slot in then._

_We’ll keep an ear out._

Damia broke the connection, and sipped at her electrolytes while she waited. “Unusual,” Afra commented, sipping at his own drink.

“Yes,” Damia replied, her frown deepening. “I have the terrible feeling that this is not going to be a nice conversation, and I’m not at all prescient. I hope it’s got nothing to do with any of our brood – and Zara sounded fine last time we talked,” Damia’s tone wavered with anxiety.

“They’re all to visit in just a few short days,” Afra reassured her, “So if these is an issue, you will certainly know.”

Six minutes later, Aurigae Tower was officially addressed by WestEuro Tower, or, more particularly the merge-mind of the two T-2’s who ran it, Frankie Gren and his wife Ceara, nee Reidinger, herself a cousin of Elizara’s, who was no doubt the grease who eased the departure from normal protocol. Frankie, a distant cousin of Gollee Gren, was rather more strict with the rules than his wife, or his cousin, and while and he was an excellent T-2, he was rather insufferable in company. The Raven-Lyon branch of the Raven clan had little enough to do with them usually, and the Grens’ Tower duties kept them busy on Earth, as Western European area of responsibility was one of the busiest, and thus was one of the larger Secondary Towers, and certainly rated its high-T pair. They had held WestEuro since shortly after their marriage nearly thirty years ago, and had raised a half-dozen high-T children in that time, two of whom were budding Primes. Their two middle children, twins and themselves T-2s, were assisting today, and Damia-Afra lightly acknowledged them.

 _One capsule, single occupant, ready for lift_ said the Gren-Merge

_Acknowledged_

_Ready, lifting_

_And caught, Aurigae thanks WestEuro, good wishes to you Frankie-Ceara-Jory-Sam_

_And to you Damia-Afra_

Elizara, like many of the Prime Talents of her generation, had suffered from the agoraphobic psychosis originating from Siglen of Altair. Unlike the Rowan, or her compatriots, Elizara had not been directly trained by Siglen, but due to her strong empathic Talent, she had acquired a version of the psychosis second hand from her Prime relatives, Peter Reidingers III and IV. Neither man had wanted to damage the young Prime empath or her valuable Talent, and so Elizara had been diverted from Tower training into the Medical field as a young teen. It was almost inconceivable a sacrifice for the then-Earth Prime, as T-1 talents had been so very, very rare. While the origin of the psychosis had been ferreted out by Jeff Raven and then later broken by the Rowan (a feat the late David of Beteleguse, nor his son, also named David, and Prime of Betelgeuse following his father’s passing, had managed to achieve, and although Capella had managed to do so, she had little cause to leave her planet of choice), Elizara had been strictly taught not to ‘port herself. As an adult it had continued to hinder her somewhat – the agoraphobia was conditioned away but the lesson against self-portation had stuck, and thus Elizara had to rely on the Talents of others for her transport.

Keylarion was happily assisting Elizara from the Capsule as the Aurigae pair reached the ‘yard. They exchanged greetings, and hugs, for Elizara was an old friend to them both.

“Come, come,” Damia gestured up towards the house. “We’re due for a snack.”

Settled comfortably in the couches in front of the fire, with the children all thoroughly greeted then sent away to complete chores with an admonishment against listening in, Elizara finally spoke. “We don’t quite understand exactly…what…has happened, you see,” Elizara’s tone reflected her expression, cautious and cagey, though her mind was carefully blank. “It’s ...well… unexpected news and I’m not sure how to take it myself, to be quite honest.”

Damia and Afra exchanged a long look. They had known Elizara for decades, Damia quite literally since birth. The T-1 medic’s famously professional bedside manner seldom slipped, and neither had heard her sound quite this discomposed.

“There is, quite frankly, no easy way to say this. You will be told as much as anyone knows, of course, and I will need your help in ensuring this situation is handled… appropriately.” Elizara continued.

“We will, of course, assist as we might,” Afra said slowly.

Elizara blinked slowly in acknowledgement, composed herself, and began. “It appears that Mrdini have some form of… reincarnation.”

“Excuse me?” Damia’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Reincarnation.”

“Well, yes,” Elizara twisted her fingers against themselves. “As I said, we’re not at all sure of the… details… but… well, yes. They don’t…. well, they do die, and they aren’t the exact same but, well, Rojer’s ‘Dini friends Gil and Kat have been… reborn.”

“ _Reborn_ ,” Damia repeated, repulsed at the idea. Rojer’s friends had _died_ , and he was only just returning to a semblance of his previous self. The last year had been painful for the entire family, but most especially for Rojer. Damia had missed her son greatly as he had recovered on Deneb, even if he was only supposedly a thought away. She knew, though, that it was the right place for him to be, and even if her relationship with her elder brother was a tad fraught, he had nonetheless done his best to keep Damia up to date with how her son was faring.

Afra too, exuded his discomfort at the memory of what their son had experience, but beneath that though his thoughts were tinged with a greater uneasiness at the mere idea that anyone might be reborn, in any way. The Capellans were noted for their antipathy towards the more extreme of the lifesaving measures that had been developed, preferring to keep their bodies and minds whole and intact and unaltered. Even the adaptive measures for other worlds were frowned upon, Capellans having acquired their single point of difference, the greenish-skin tone, from a local pigment ubiquitous in the environment. Afra, though he has left as a young adult, hadn’t shaken off all the methody conditioning from his youth, any more than the green skin.  

“As in…” Damia trailed off.

“No, not… reanimated, not like one of those old tri-D…” Elizara interjected, sensing where Damia’s thoughts had tended. “I understood that it’s not at all possible.”

“I should hope not,” Afra said, repulsed, “but what exactly does ‘Reborn’ entail?”

Elizara shrugged helplessly. “I have been told by one of my counterparts only a very little. Mrdini can re-make an individual, it seems. And I believe there is some conditioning which makes the new… copy… as alike to the original individual as might be achieved. You know,” Elizara changed tack somewhat, “that we have never managed to completely figure out the Mrdini dreams. Their form of telepathy, or collective mind, doesn’t at all work like ours.”

“They’re clones, you mean,” Damia scoffed, “Who have been …programmed…” Cloning had been outlawed on human worlds long ago, and this sounded uncomfortably like Rojer’s friends had been cloned, or at least the Mrdini version of it.

Elizara inhaled. “Yeees… that’s the conclusion I too reached. The what’s and how’s are unfortunately not likely to be forthcoming, and to be honest they’re not completely relevant to how we’re going to move forward with this.”

“What do you mean by that,” Damia snapped, subsiding only when Afra sent soothing thoughts her way.

“The official position that we are taking is that it is a wonderful thing. You are all tremendously happy to be reunited, and thrilled, of course, for Rojer,” she intoned, again, without a hint of inflection. “This comes from Mekturian himself, and Earth Prime will be enforcing his directive.”

 _Conditioning?_ Damia queried, distress leaking through her shields.  _For us as well?_

 _Yes_  came Elizara’s dejected reply.  _It’s a diplomatic clusterfuck and we can’t avoid it, however much we might wish to._ She shook her head and sighed. “The ‘Dini’s have got it into their heads that it’s a matter of honour, that wrongs must be righted and that this is the best way to go about it. They don’t understand human grief, and I know I certainly don’t understand their honour code…”

Afra unlaced his long fingers and gently placed one over that of his wife of twenty-five years. “If that must be so, then to practicalities. How… how much will they be like Gil and Kat, these… replacements?” he uttered the last word with an un-Afra-like degree of distaste.

“I am told they will not be as the … originals… were when they arrived as juveniles…” Elizara hesitated. “I am not sure exactly what state…”  
  
Damia’s lips compressed in displeasure.

“The rest of the family…” Afra began, placing his glass on the low table in between them.

Elizara nodded, “Yes, it will involve all of you. That is why Jeff is arranging things so all of your brood will be home at the same time. The others are to avoid some suspicion. It is not commonly known outside of the family, or the Mrdini, what happened to Grl and Ktg, so there are few who need to…”

“There is no way…” Damia grimaced, “That anyone will be able to pull the wool over nearly a dozen primes, not to mention a handful of other high-T…”

Elizara winced. “We have a few…tricks up our sleeve. Best to get everyone in at once, as… it works best in situations of high emotion. You will have to pretend you don’t know about any of this, as well. I’ll be on hand to… guide the correct emotional response, as will a colleague of mine who is a T-1 empath. You’ll have to bring them in the day before you expect your brood to arrive. I understand that the house’s ‘Dini are planning to reintroduce Rojer and the new Gil and Kat as he arrives home.”

 _I’m not at all happy about this, father._ Damia shot off an angry thought.

Even light-years away, she could hear her father wince. _I can’t say that any of us are, Damia-daughter. But the Mrdini have had this planned since … the incident, and it’s too late for the plans to be halted. I only found out myself this morning, and I thought it would be easier in person, and from Elizara, who knows the most about it._ Abruptly, the contact dropped, though Damia had got the sense of her father busy at work. Only the depths of her distress could have driven her to interrupt a Prime on duty, such was the breach of Talent etiquette.

“We know, Damia, Afra, that this isn’t likely to be easy.” Elizara was such a fine grasp of Talent that she had doubtless heard the brief conversation.

Afra bowed his head in agreement. “Nevertheless, as we said, we will assist as we might.” He patted his wife’s knee again to quell her protest. Damia subsided.

“The only things we require are for you to not block the… alteration, and to… guide the conversation a little, if necessary.”

“And pretend that we did not know.”

“Exactly,” Elizara let out a breath, as she sensed the Aurigaen pair reluctantly agreeing.

Five days later, the first of the visitors arrived.

 

\--

Damia… frowned, glancing ahead at Rojer, being... "herded," the term came to her mind, toward the house. And... She had a compelling urge to run forward, to be  _with_  Rojer. Then Zara caught her by the arm.

 _I feel it, too, Mother_ , Zara said.  _But it is not for us to be present_.

 _What are you two talking about_? Afra asked.

 _I'm not at all sure_ , Damia replied, trying to reconcile the 'Dinis' odd actions with the growing sense that some extraordinary event was about to happen.  _This morning when I told Fok that everyone was coming, it asked if I meant Rojer also. Then it muttered about suitable reparation and an apology for the length of time it had taken_.

Laria strode up beside her mother and Zara, her face twisted with concern, one hand absently rubbing her diaphragm as if to relieve a tension there. "Mother, I've the oddest sensation..."

"I, too," Flavia said, equally puzzled.

"Well, Fok and Tip have been cooking up something, Mom," Morag said. "They've been acting funny and I can't get  _why_  out of Fip and Kim. But all the 'Dinis're almighty pleased with themselves, whatever it is they're doing."

Every one of the Talented family by now was touched, and wondering about the strange imminence. From the puzzled, almost wary, expressions of Flavia and Kincaid, the atmosphere was affecting them…

…They were in sight of the front terrace of the house, Rojer already halfway up the steps, surrounded by various sizes of 'Dinis. Then he halted.

A blast of totally unshielded astonished emotion stopped everyone midstep but this was followed by such joy that everyone also broke into vicarious smiles, until Damia, Laria, Zara and Morag began to cry. The four of them ran forward so that they could see what prompted such a cascade of feelings, followed by the remainder of the family and its guests.

The 'Dinis had ranged themselves on the top step, their colors bright with their own joy. On the porch Rojer was on his knees, his arms about two 'Dinis, clasping first one, then the other tightly to him, caressing each before snagging them together against him.

 _It's Gil and Kat come back to me! Mother! Dad! Everyone. I've got my 'Dinis back. Young still but they_  are  _Grl and Ktg! They are_!

 

\--

Later that evening, after all their guests had been duly fed, watered and sent of to sleep, and after Damia and Afra had finished their conversation with their Dinis, one that was no more enlightening than the one they’d previously had with Elizara, the pair ‘ported swiftly and quietly down to the Tower.

Elizara stepped out from behind a carrier, nodding her greetings. Damia could sense the other, who they had not yet met, and from the sense she got, would not meet.

“It went about as well as could be hoped,” Elizara said, with a forced smile.

Afra’s impassive face gave away nothing of his inner thoughts. “Your… colleague’s gift is very…”

Damia shuddered compulsively. The emotional manipulation, for only she and Afra were aware that it _was_ emotional manipulation, had been extraordinarily powerful, inescapable and penetrating. Neither had fought it, and they had retained enough awareness to know that none of their children, nor their guests had even noticed it in the tumult of the arrivals and then the revelation of the two “reproduced” Dini. Very deeply, Damia wondered if she could have fought such a powerful Talent, and then resolved to think on it no more.

“We thank you for your cooperation,” Elizara said, following the tone of Damia’s surface thoughts. “We don’t… like… to resort to such… extremes.”

“We understand,” Afra said. Truly, they did. The conversation with Fok and Tri had revealed the Mrdini attitude towards ‘reproducing’ an individual in a greater depth than Elizara had been able to. The notion of honor that the Mrdini so strongly adhered to was evident. The Lyons were ambassadors to the Mrdini, and as such, sometimes their own personal feelings and thoughts must be sacrificed for the good of interspecies relations. It was … preferable, but barely so, that at least everyone might be _happy_ about it, rather than just doing bitter duty.

Elizara nodded with some relief. “Put it from your minds. The Mrdini idea that we go on, as if there was never an interruption, might be the best one to follow here. If you don’t mind returning us to Earth…”

“Of course.” Damia agreed, assisting Elizara into the capsule. She did not try to glimpse the individual already inside, not wanting to know, not really, not after…

Capsule sealed, Elizara offered up her not-inconsiderable heft, and Damia lightly drew on it, and on Afra’s solid strength to lightly place the capsule where Elizara directed. This was not a job that required the use of the Tower’s massive generators.

Releasing the merge, she shivered in the light breeze that had sprung up in the night air.

Afra wrapped an arm around his wife of twenty-something years. “And, so we go on, as if we always have.”

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody posted about a billion years ago on one of the forums that they'd be horrified in this situation. Well, yeah, I can see that. So, why was everyone so happy to write this off as "look at those wacky aliens doing wacky things?"
> 
> Answer: They got made to think that way.
> 
> So have approximately 3000 words of set-up and world-building!
> 
> The quoted section of Lyon's Pride is the work of Anne Mccaffrey, and is used only for context! Plz dont sue.


End file.
